28 Days To Make or Break
by quillqueen
Summary: 28 days. One goal. Get over Oliver Wood. And fast. [GWKBOW]
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1  
**(Prologue)

* * *

Give or take, it takes 28 days for a person to get rid of a habit. Incidentally, does it take 28 days to make one? 

For me, the habit I was in dire need of ridding was a crush. A stupid, juvenile, short to say jumping-on-the-bandwagon crush on my Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood. Now in my fifth year playing chaser for the Gryffindor team, my undying admiration for Oliver has inevitably escalated into catastrophic proportions. Read: S-c-a-r-y.

Well, let's put it this way, most of my favorite hobbies consisted Oliver in some way. Stalking Oliver, talking to Angelina and Alicia about Oliver's smile, attending Quidditch training, passing by Oliver's classes just to get a glimpse of him, watching Oliver eat during meal time, talking to Oliver about very mundane things like the weather and Quidditch (what else?), staring at Oliver when he's not looking, and my personal favorite: watching Oliver peeling off his Quidditch robes to expose the expanse of creamy, sweaty skin and fine, Merlin-sent abs. It's official, at 16, I'm a massive pervert. But whatever.

Oliver was just walking sex—sheer, unadulterated sex on legs. If you knew him, you'd stare too. For me, he was every definition of the word beautiful. Hazel eyes, piecey brown hair falling over his forehead, Quidditch-toned body, and the most amazing deep voice that just takes my breath away.

Come to think of it, the only hobby I had that didn't involve the seventh year heartthrob was hanging out in the commons with Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Fred and George Weasley, and Lee Jordan—my friends, support group and partners-in-crime.

It was during a lazy Monday night after supper as we basked in the glow and heat of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room that I finally decided to withdraw myself from all things Oliver Wood and announce the start of the 28-day cycle.

"Good one, Kate," Alicia said dismissively and she and Angelina giggled knowingly as though I was mental.

"No, I'm serious," I said firmly, slightly annoyed that my best friends are not taking me seriously. "I really am giving up on Oliver."

"Merlin!" Fred gasped, letting go of Angelina's hand and cupping his mouth with it.

"Cherubs in heaven," George chimed in, mirroring his brother's expression.

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to slug George on the arm as he was sitting right beside me on the couch since we were the only two who weren't and had no intentions of hooking up. _Honestly!_ I had a difficult time accepting Alicia and Lee's relationship. Friends are supposed to be friends, right? Now Fred and Angelina had to follow suit. Anyway…

"What's gotten into you, Kates?" Angelina departed from Fred's side and flopped between me and George on the couch, an uncertain smile on her face.

"I just realized that it's a lost cause. And I heard he's dating Cho Chang."

"What?" Five voices said at once.

"Pipe down you lot," I said feeling my cheeks burn as I avoided everyone's stare.

"That harlot!" Alicia bellowed, her raven mane almost standing on its ends with the intensity of her voice. Name calling was her specialty.

"Alicia!" Angelina said.

"Sorry Angie. I just don't see what's so bloody beautiful about her. I mean, she used to date Cedric Diggory, yeah?" Alicia said.

"Well, she is quite a stunner," Lee shrugged. "And brilliant at Quidditch."

The twins nodded in agreement.

"Pretty," Fred said.

"Very." George followed.

"You're not helping," Alicia shot daggers at the lads, and glared at her boyfriend particularly. Lee raised his arms up in surrender.

"Anyway," I said impatiently, hugging the pillow on my chest tighter. "It doesn't even matter. I doubt he even cares about me."

Cue in the uncomfortable silence. It's uncanny how often I had this effect on the group. I say one thing and they all suddenly decide to shut up just when they were supposed to distract me with comments and reactions. Needless to say, I was the queen of superfluous drama.

Angelina placed an arm around me and I immediately placed my head on her all-too familiar shoulder. I've always sought comfort in Angelina more than I did Alicia. Angie is a bit more sensitive, while Alicia tends to be a little too aggressive, a war-freak actually. Curses a lot, as well.

"Well _we_ care about you, love, don't we?" Angelina said and I heard a chorus of affirmations with the twins' 'yeahs' being louder than the rest.

"You'll find another fella," Fred indicated supportively, and I swear, his head made the slightest inclination towards his brother. I could've been wrong, but George's shoe flew towards Fred's face with impressive force. What the hell, right?

* * *

**  
A/N**: Ok, a slow start. But I swear it will pick up in the next chapters! Let me know what you think. Please, please, please review. :) 

For the purposes of this story, Katie, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George and Lee are all in their sixth year, while Oliver is in his seventh. Yes, it's not canon. But please bear with the changes.

**_Disclaimer_**: Not mine.

**_Next_**: Katie starts the 28-day program. (sounds like a diet, huh?) More interactions with the twins. George, specifically. And yeah, the pangs of unrequited love.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2  
**(Day one)

* * *

I woke up the next morning sprawled like a starfish on the carpet in front of the fireplace of the common room. Very unattractive, I know. Good thing somebody thought of covering me up with a blanket. It was a soft, powder blue blanket that was thinning perhaps from the many times it has been laundered. But it was just the type I liked. It was cosy and smelled really nicely too. Like Vanilla. 

I tugged the snuggly covers over my mouth, eyes trasfixed at the chandelier dangling above. Suddenly, I had morbid thoughts of what an untimely demise it would be if it suddenly fell on me. No one would know. No one would save me since everybody was in the Great Hall enjoying their breakfast. Or probably in their classes poured over some…

CLASSES! I had first period Potions that day! And I was late!

I glanced out the tall windows and the bright sunshine greeted my drowsy eyes. In one swift motion I was up and about, grabbing the blanket and rolling it up in a ball as I ran towards my dormitory, silently wishing that Snape was not in a particularly foul mood that day. I pushed the door open. BANG!—obviously exerting more force than was necessary because both Angie and Alicia woke with a start. They were there. Sleeping. Well, they _were_ sleeping but…

"Motherfu—" Alicia brusquely tugged her nightmask off and propped herself up on her elbows as she glared at me in search for an explanation.

Angelina, with her black hair all over the place and a thin trail of drool on the side of her mouth, asked, "Kate?"

"I… I—I'm sorry. Thought I had a lie-in… and Potions…" I explained rather inarticulately as I stood on the doorway, cheeks burning in embarrassment. I felt so stupid. I should've just checked the time.

"UUUUUUGH!" Alicia buried her face in her pillow and Angelina flicked her wand so that the curtains of her four-poster fastened shut.

"I'm sorry guys," I said as I walked in tippy toes towards my closet, chucking the blanket on my bed. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was an hour before breakfast. At least, I'd have my first decent bath since I got here. The girls and I had a habit of sleeping in late and the bathroom was usually a battlefield every morning. One in the showers, one in the sink brushing her teeth, and the other, well, use your imagination. There was a time that Alicia and Angie jumped into the showers together because we were really pressed for time. But it was not lesbian or anything of the sort. The two are far from it, actually, having their own boyfriends.

Ever since that fateful day when Fred hurled a paper ball at Angie, who we consider the mother of the group, during study hall to ask her to the Yule Ball, they have been inseparable. Alicia, on the other hand, has been going out with Lee for a couple of years now. We always joked that Alicia simply bullied Lee into the relationship, because quite frankly, no one saw it coming. There were no hints, manifestations, or secret ploys. It just happened like that.

It was quite unnerving to think that I was the only one in the group without a fella. Well, save for George. (But I'm sure he didn't want a boyfriend anyway.) Sometimes, Alicia and Angie would harass me to make the moves on George since he was available. But he wasn't really my type. Sometimes I wish he was because it would work out really nicely. I knew him very well. I was just comfortable around him especially because we spend most of our Hogsmeade trips together since the rest of our friends decided they wanted to snog each other.

Then again, dating him would not work well with my 'friends should remain friends' principle. Wouldn't be practicing what I preach, yeah? More importantly, it would be a bit odd dating somebody who looked exactly like your best mate's boyfriend, wouldn't it? Merlin knows I still get Fred and George mixed up sometimes even after six years of knowing them. I'm just glad they stopped wearing those identical jumpers.

Speaking of 'my type,' there he was beaming at me as he clutched the Quidditch cup with both his hands and thrusted it up in the air. I untacked Oliver's photograph from the collage of pictures behind my closet door and watched as more and more confetti poured from the skies. He was hoisted in Fred's and George's shoulders, his face a picture of pure bliss after we won the much coveted trophy last year. I liked this picture. I've stared at it for more times than I care to count, really.

And now it was time for it to retire. I was determined to do this 28-day thing so I have to be committed. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and ripped the photo in two. I opened my eyes. Oliver stopped moving. The confetti stopped. I killed the moment that the picture captured. And I _really_ felt bad about it, but I binned the photo afterwards. Determination, I told myself, though a small part of my brain was wishing that Colin Creevey had a spare copy of the picture. You know, just in case.

……….

After bathing, throwing on my uniform, drying my hair and putting on my make-up (just lip gloss for school days), I went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I was usually accompanied by Alicia and Angie, but they were both still snuggled up nicely in their comforters and I didn't want to wake them up. I just couldn't risk pissing them off twice in one morning.

I found the lads sitting in our usual spot. Two bright red heads and one in dreadlocks. Yep, that was them.

"Morning!" I greeted with a grin as I sat on the bench beside George, placing my book bag on my left.

"Fancy a cuppa?" he asked, smiling warmly at me.

"Yes, please." And he poured hot tea from my cup, the heat from the brown liquid spiraled into the air.

"Where's my fat cow?" Fred asked, pushing the basket of toast towards me.

"And mine?" Lee inquired.

Charming, how those gits address their girlfriends when they aren't around.

I raised my eyebrows at them, making sure they cottoned on that I wasn't happy with their language (although I knew they meant in lovingly), "Sleeping in."

Fred shrugged and returned his attention to his porridge.

Under the premise of buttering my toast, I surreptitiously looked for Oliver in his usual place in the table. He was always an early bird and should right about now be reading the Daily Prophet.

"Oy!" George called my attention. I then realized that I was actually buttering the back of my palm.

"Bugger," I said, taking the napkin he offered and wiping the cream off.

"Thought you were, umm… 'chucking' Wood?" He laughed at his own pun. Whatever, George.

"I am." I said matter-of-factly, crumpling the tissue and placing it beside my plate. "I don't even know who you're talking about."

"Right," George said with a malicious glint in his eyes.

I completely ignored his teasing and took a couple of cream puffs and placed it on my plate beside the toast.

"See there's your bloke," He said suddenly, pointing covertly at someone on my left. I quickly whipped my head around and found Marcus Flint entering the Great Hall with those massive front teeth of his sticking out of his mouth.

"Oh, shut it, George," I said, making a face at him. "Not funny."

"But I made a point, didn't I?" He said.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at him for being spot on. He always did that me. Fine. I was still actually interested to see Oliver. If the way my head made a 180 degree turn from my neck just to look at him was any indication. This 28-day business was going to be hard work. In any case, at least I still had these delicious cream puffs to cheer me up. One of the cream puffs I took was different from the other one, different from the lot actually. The rest was sort of golden brown, while the odd one was yellowish with a thin coat of powdered sugar outside. I shrugged, took it and inserted the entire thing in my mouth.

Not bad.

Creamy.

Yum and -Poof!-

I was suddenly hovering above my chair and eveything seemed really bigger like I was a tiny… BIRD! I turned my little head to the right and found those stupid lads I called friends doubling over in laughter. I opened my mouth to curse but all that came out was a chirp. I flapped my wings vigorously and looked at George, knowing it was he who switched the cream puff and gave me one of those stupid canary creams they invented last year. Well, I should be turning back any second now. The first year they tried it with was only a bird for like two seconds. I'd give those gits a good beating when I transfigure back.

Waiting…

I'm still a bird.

Chirpy Chirp Chirp

Yep, still flying…

Fuck it!

Growing more impatient, I attacked George with full force, pecking the side of his face with my little beak, taking in much satisfaction as he yelped in pain. Fred and Lee were guffawing their lungs out, but they wouldn't be laughing for long, I decided. Once I'm done with George, I'll give them a few bruises too. Just a couple more bites for ickle Georgykins…

-Poof!-

I landed on George's lap with force that made him go 'oomph!' and discovered that my beak err… lips were still on his cheek. Fantastic! I pulled away quickly, staring at him shellshocked as he retuned the stare and smiled like he was suppressing a good laugh. Even more fantastic was the fact that my girl friends arrived just in time too see me kissing, well not really kissing, but in theory, I _was _kissing George. Well, sort of. GAH!

"No way!" Alicia's voice rang from behind us.

"Oh my god!" Angelina, whose hair was all fresh and combed now unlike the humongous mess it was earlier, beamed gleefully as she took her spot beside Fred.

Fred nudged Lee on the elbow and both nodded their heads approvingly.

"What's all this kerfuffle?" Our heads turned towards the familiar voice of our Head of House, the stern, the uptight, the anal-retentive, Prof. McGonagall.

We all exchanged nervous glances, a similar question in our heads: What the bloody hell is _kerfuffle_?

"That's _enough_ horseplay for the morning," Professor McGonagall said sternly, giving each of us a patronizing look. But her eyes lingered on me. "Miss Bell, if you would kindly extract yourself from Mr. Weasley. You're not setting a good example to the younger students."

"I'm sorry, professor," I said, blushing even more profusely than before as I took my previous spot on the bench. When Prof. McGonagall stalked back to the head table, I punched George in the arm and the _incident_ was never brought up once more that morning.

Well, despite the utter humiliation I went through, at least Angie and Alicia forgot about the other incident that involved me waking them up prematurely. I suppose that kiss counted for at _least_ something.

* * *

**A/N: So… what do you think?**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3  
**(Day three)

* * *

"STOP IT." I said with finality as Alicia and Angie continuously badgered me to indulge on my favourite activity—watching Oliver undress in the lockers after Quidditch practice. I was determined to forget about the lad. I truly was. But damn, knowing his awesomeness was just a few feet away was tearing me up inside.

The communal dressing area in the Quidditch pitch was humid with the all-too familiar scent of sweat-drenched athletes prevailing in the air. I sat on one of the wooden benches, my back towards the blokes so I wouldn't be tempted to look. I pushed my sweaty fringe away from my forehead and lifted my foot to pull out my tube socks.

"Just a tiny peek, Kates," Angie said, giggling as she unstrapped her boots beside me, shooting a sly look at Oliver who was on the other side of the room, apparently taking off his robes. "You know you want to."

"Ollie is totally working out more these days," Alicia noted. "He is soooo fit."

"Yeah, I heard a scout came to talk to him about joining Puddlemere."

"Really?"

"Oh will you two shut up. Honestly! What kind of mates are you? I'm NOT looking, ok?" I said, tossing my socks impatiently inside my bag.

"Come now Kates," George called from behind. "Don't be shy. You can look at my body. I'm quite fit lately, if you've noticed."

"He is, Kates. Very ripped," Angie said, giving George a thumbs up. "Have a look-see."

Sighing audibly, I obliged and found George, who was wearing orange boxers that matched his hair and the bird bruises on the side of his face, flexing his non-existent abs and biceps for my viewing pleasure.

"Delightful," I told him with a patronizing smile and went to my locker to get a fresh shirt. I shrugged my robes off my shoulders, took off the wifebeater underneath and threw on a crisp white shirt. I used to be uncomfortable undressing in the communal locker area, but I just got used to it, I guess. Besides, it wasn't like people were walking around stark naked. The Gryffindor team wasn't some sort of nudist colony.

"Let's get a move on team, the Hufflepuffs booked the pitch for the next hour," Oliver announced after a few minutes, walking around to pick up some of the garments everybody's been leaving behind.

"Righty-o captain," Fred said, giving Oliver a salute when Oliver passed him, at which point he was nearing me so I pretended that I wasn't looking at him or anything. With my head facing the inside of my locker, I pulled the barette from my hair and ran a couple of fingers through it, loosening up the strands.

"Kate," Oliver said, picking up the awfully sweaty robes I dropped to the floor and handing it to me.

"Oh, thank you," I said as non-chalantly as I could and tore my eyes away from his beautiful face.

He lingered for a while, leaning casually on the locker beside me as I folded up my robes. From my periphery, I could see him watching me closely and I could feel my cheeks burning from his stare. Or was it just extremely hot in the vicinity?

"All right?" he asked, placing a hand on my elbow.

"Fantastic," I replied with a casual smile, ignoring the electric currents I felt from where he touched me. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You just don't seem a bit chatty lately."

"Well, you wouldn't know for sure, would you, since you've been camping out in the Ravenclaw table these days," I replied with an eyebrow raise and closed my locker door shut. Oh shit, did I just say that?

He smiled amusingly (no, it was actually more of a smirk) and pinched my nose lightly, "You're not jealous, are you?"

But before I could respond OH HELL YEAH I'M JEALOUS, Angelina intervened.

"Why would she be when she's been going out with somebody?" she said smugly and pulled me by the wrist out the archway. "Bye Ollie."

"See you, Angelina, Kate," Oliver called out. All I managed was a small wave goodbye as he watched me being dragged outside by my friend, who just told him the biggest lie of the century. I haven't been on a date in two effing years!

"Hang on, my bag," I told Angelina when we were out in the pitch again.

"George has it," she said, pointing towards the twins who were just a few paces ahead. George was balancing my duffel bag on his head as he walked with his brother and Harry Potter indulged in animated conversation.

"What was _that_?" Alicia ran up to us, her eyes wide as nightlamps.

"I don't know. It just sort of launched itself out of of my throat," I said guiltily of that sarcastic little comment I made.

"Not _that._ Because he totally deserved that remark," Angie adjusted the back pack on her shoulder. "I meant, why was he flirting with you? Not that he shouldn't, because we all know you're gorgeous…"

"Very irresistible," Alicia chimed in quickly, grinning.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, pushing my friends away as we ascended the steps back up to the castle.

"No seriously, what's up with him?" Angie asked returning to my side as we turned the corner toward the changing staircases. The twins were waiting for us on the landing.

"Yeah," Alicia said, looking sort of annoyed. "Why was he all up on you with a sexy grin?"

"You mean like…" Fred slolwy ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips before smiling in a suave way that oddly reminded me of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Blimey, Fred, that's not sexy," George said, handing me my bag. "Hold this for me, Kates." I took it and swung it across my chest.

"I believe it's more like this…" And George did the exact same thing Fred did so both of them were now grinning like massive dolts.

"Dashing," Angelina said, horrorstruck, pushing Fred up the flight of stairs. Alicia followed them.

"Uh, yeah, that's very sexy," I said of George's goofy grin. "I'd pick you over Oliver any day."

"I know, sweetheart," George said, swinging his arm around my shoulder as we made our way up. "You just wait till I get these pecs in shape! Then you'll be all over me."

I elbowed him on the tummy slightly and we laughed our way up the portrait hole, sharing joke after joke (it was he who was telling most of them, actually) until we reached the common room and went our separate ways.

* * *

For a short while, I was distracted with the mental image of Fred and George's stupid/sexy grin, but it got old and my thoughts reverted to Oliver himself. He was acting a bit strange a while ago. The way he looked at me as Angelina gracefully escorted—scratch that—DRAGGED me out of the changing areas was unlike any I've ever gotten from him. It was like he was looking, like _really_ looking at me for the first time. It was strange. It was exciting. It was bothering me. The way a thong does when it rides up your bum.

I skipped supper that night. My tummy was doing odd flip flops like I was about to go sick any minute. But I'm sure it was just because of anxiety. I laid contemplatively under the comfy powder blue blanket which I haven't returned to the unidentified owner. (I was sure it belonged to one of my five mates anyway.) I was really loving the softness and the scent of the fabric and was deeply tempted to never return it. After a few minutes of tossing and turning in my bed, I decided to go down to the common room to get some sort of reading material to perhaps lull me to sleep.

I went down wearing my light pink pyjamas dotted with cute little hearts all over, unmindful that I'd find the character who was the reason why I was still awake in the first place. Oliver was already in his nighties as well, a tight gray shirt and navy blue pyjama bottoms. I would be lying if I said that he didn't look amazing. Because he did. And suddenly my feet were glued to the stairs.

"Oh hi Kate," Oliver glanced up from a magazine he was reading.

"Oliver," I said with a tight-lipped smile, looking at the reading material in his hands. Ah. The Quidditch digest—what else? I dragged my bare feet on the carpet, approaching him with caution. I knew I wasn't supposed to be getting myself into a situation with him.

"Why aren't you having supper?"

"Same question I'd like to ask you actually," he replied, closing the magazine and tossing it haphazardly on the table.

"I wasn't hungry," I said, standing a few feet away from him.

"Yeah I wasn't either. Sit?" he fluffed the seat beside him, discharging dustmites from the cushions.

"Alright," I said, rather reluctantly, taking a random magazine from the pile and occupied the presented space.

"So?" he said, extending his arm on the back of the couch. "How are you doing?"

"Fantastic," I replied, giving him a quick smile before flipping a few pages of the whatever magazine that was on my lap. I wasn't really concentrating, not even trying to, actually. And was his arms snaking it's way over my shoulder?

"So who's this new lad Angie's been talking about?" Oliver asked, stopping my hand from randomly turning the pages of the magazine.

Caught off-guard, I racked my brain for answer, all the while aware that Oliver was holding my hand and that the way his arm was hovering was dangerously close to an embrace. I could've just said any boy's name but his hazel eyes were focused on me so intensely and his hand was so warm and so soft above mine and I just couldn't bloody function!

Thankfully, the portrait hole opened and the awkward silence was replaced with busy chatter as students filed in.

"George!" I stood erect as I spotted my red-haired mate from the mass of Gryffindors coming in from supper. Merlin, was I ever thankful to see him.

"Kates!" he beamed, mightily surprised as I sauntered over to where he was, walking away from whatever moment Oliver and I had. George looked at Oliver then at me and nodded like he came to a realization. One plus one…

"Well, don't let me keep you." He reacted without humour whatsoever, his smile suddenly dropping to a frown.

"No, no, we're not…" I tried to explain, but our other friends emerged from the portrait hole. I was so distracted that I didn't even lash out on Fred for making a comment about my apparent weight gain. (Just a few pounds so they wouldn't tease me about being a stick insect.)

"Hey belly Bell," Fred greeted as he passed us with Angie grinning beside him.

"Hey." Lee and Alicia entered, bearing similar expression of glee.

"So that was why you didn't join us," George said quietly as we followed the pairs to the couches, each of them sharing a loveseat. (Oliver was gone, thank Merlin!) He detested it when I didn't join them because he was stuck with the lovers.

"No. No," I quickly interjected, inserting my hand on the crook of his arm. "I actually just came down to get something to read and..."

"You could have just told me that you had a romp with Wood lined up for the night," George shrugged my hand away and faced me with a cold stare.

WHA--? His accusation shocked me. "I told you, I didn't know he was there," I said hotly. "Why are you even reacting this way?"

"I don't know. I just don't like it when…" he paused, his eyes dropping to the floor. "…when people don't mean what they say."

Forget metaphors, I might as well get a sharpee and scribble GUILT it in big, bold, letters across my forehead. When he looked up, I peered at him from under my lashes, slightly ashamed of myself but still wondering why it seemed like such a big deal to him. So we stood there, staring at each other for an eternity, before he looked away and pulled something from the inside of his robes. "Here."

He gave me a brown paper bag.

"Thought you might be hungry," he shrugged and without another look turned on his heel to leave.

As I watched his back disappear down the staircases to the boys' dorm, I felt four pairs of eyes on me.

"What did I do now?" I turned to my mates, sighing exasperatedly.

Oddly enough, everybody was smiling at me.

"Ah," Fred grinned. "Their first lovers' spat."

* * *

**_A/N_: Thanks for all the awesome responses I received from the first two chapters. Cheers to you lot esp to ink-blot88, who has been so helpful!**

**Now come on, people! If you loved/liked/hated/detested the chapter, click that little GO button and let me know. Nothing motivates me more than a nice, fat page of reviews, so pleaseeee… :) I'm asking really nicely here. If you don't, I'm going to cry. Ok, maybe not. Leave a REVIEW and make this girl happy.**

**_Next_: Annoying mates, a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff and some injuries.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
**(Days four and five)  
(Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor)

* * *

DAY 4

After last night, George and I skillfully avoided being stuck with each other for prolonged periods of time. We pretty much treated each other like a virus. Such a wonderful friendship we had.

It began early on. He had an early breakfast and had left five minutes before I arrived. "Gone to study, he said," one of the earlier students in our year told me and I knew that was complete and utter bollocks. George doesn't study in advance. He crams like we all do.

I confided my frustrations to Alicia in a very concise note during History of Magic. Her very helpful reply:

_You can be dead clueless sometimes, Kates. Ha ha. Love, Alicia xoxo_.

You bet your arse I haven't spoken to her since. I really should have written to Angelina, but she was too busy playing footsies with Fred under their table.

Despite my earlier burst of emotions, I was feeling more sedated by midday. All I wanted then was to sort things out with George. I miss that git. Lunch was pretty dull. The lovebirds were pretty much wrapped up in their own worlds, purposely leaving out me and George. He shoved potatoes and steak and kidney pie down his throat in rapid succession and left me alone and lonely, tossing peas and carrots around my plate.

The only positive thing that happened during meal time was Oliver brought his plate over and told me that I looked too pretty that day to eat on my own. Ha! So he took what was formerly George's seat and chatted with me like we did it everyday. He told me that a talent scout was coming over next week to watch him during our training. "You better make me look good," he warned. But he was kidding. I think. Besides, I never went soft on him when it came to Quidditch. So we talked and talked as we ate our potatoes and drank our pumpkin juice. He didn't make me laugh as much as George did. Actually, he didn't make me laugh at all. But he did make me blush several shades of red for several instances. I almost felt like a marshmallow being roasted in fire!

Alicia was throwing me dirty looks, but I completely ignored her. I was still pissed off at her for that nice little quip of hers during first period. Very insensitive, that woman.

During our afternoon classes, I tried to talk to George but couldn't find the right timing as the bloody git had been dodging my every attempt to converse with him.

In Muggle Studies, I sent him a note which he simply slipped inside his trouser pockets without so much as a peek at whatever I had written. When Snape gave us a surprise exam in Potions, I knew George just had to glance at me at some point. I was so sure he was going to copy off me as I planned to copy off him, but the boy was firm. No matter what happened, it seemed like he was determined to ignore me.

So after that, I decided to just throw in the towel. He'd come around in his own time. Whatever.

After supper, I was on my bed, reading the current issue of Witch Weekly when Angelina entered the room.

"Kates, George is uh, he's waiting for you in the commons. So go down and talk to him, quick" Angelina said, hanging her robes on one of the hooks behind our door.

"What does he want," I grumbled, eyes transfixed on the ad with a particularly gorgeous model winking at me.

"Oh, come on Kates, get up and meet him," she tossed me my cardigan. Sighing, I got out of my bed, slipped on my cardigan, and made my downstairs with Angelina applauding behind me. I rolled my eyes at her.

The common room was almost empty that night. Aside from George there were a couple of girls sitting by the window, gossiping like it was soon going out of fashion. George was wearing his favourite set of pajamas—an orange and gray pair that he has worn a million times. A gray bonnet was covering his usually unkempt red hair, the tips sticking out from the material like straw ends. He was staring rather intently at the fires, almost like he was willing it to grow bigger. It was a bit creepy, actually. I had never seen George look that serious, although he was considered the serious twin. Less boisterous would be more fitting, I reckon.

"So you wanted to talk?" I spoke with a tone of urgency in my voice, like I had more important things to do than have that conversation with him.

He gazed at me questioningly, brows furrowed, like _I_ was disturbing him while he was doing something very productive.

"Well Angie said that you wanted to-- Oh," I nodded to myself, realizing what just happened. A set up. Typical Angelina move. "Well, I was about to doze off anyway..." With a final sidelong glance at him, I made for the stairs, quite annoyed at everything, really.

"We could, still, if you want." he called as I seized the railings and planted my foot on the first step.

I looked at him from over my shoulder, noting the way his socked feet were tapping the carpeted floor. He always did that when he was uncomfortable. Or nervous. But he was never nervous around me.

I walked over to him and flopped on the couch, sighing audibly as my body sank into the cushions.

Silence.

The discomfort I felt then from being beside him was so unfamiliar, almost alien to my senses. I started rapping my fingers on my knees, mimicking the rhythmic tapping of his toes. He resumed staring at the fires, but his stare was a bit softer now, like he just wanted something else to look at.

That was just so like him to invite me to talk then completely ignore me. But I realized then that I had to take the initiative if I wanted the weight off my shoulders.

"That Potions exam was a mind-bender, wasn't it?" A lame attempt at a conversation, I know. But I had to start somewhere.

"I'm quite sure I aced it," he replied, snorting.

"Look George," I cracked. "I can't stand that you're mad at me, but I told you, I didn't plan that meeting with Oliver and we weren't, you know..."

He finally looked at me, his chocolate brown eyes earnest. "I believe you."

"Why were you acting that way?"

"Kates, I'm not all that good with apologies but I feel really horrible about what happened."

Ok, so he didn't answer my question, but I let it pass. "How horrible?"

"Like a chicken with its head cut off," he replied. And then, he smiled that smile that meant we were best mates again and that the stupid argument was already forgotten. "I'm such a ponce for overreacting and I'm sorry."

"Good." I said smirking all smugly when he admitted it was his fault. "Because the drama was really unnecessary, George. And if anybody here has the right to do that, it's me, got it?"

"Right. So we're friends again?"

"Are you still a thickheaded git?"

"No, I don't think I am."

"Good. Then ok."

I cozied up to him, erasing the irritating void between us in the literal and figurative sense. He placed an arm around my shoulder.

"So you failed that test, right?" I looked up at him with a smile, recalling how he nervously nibbled on the tips of his quill as the test progressed.

"Most definitely got nil," he replied. "You didn't do so hot either, I reckon."

"No, I couldn't study last night," I yawned, resting my head comfortably on his shoulder.

"Why not?"

"I was thinking," I said simply, not wanting to elaborate.

"About what," he asked.

My lids were growing heavier by the second. "Oh you know, stuff…"

"Right," he replied, yawning widely afterwards.

And before long, we were both out cold.

* * *

DAY 5: Game day

"Top of the morning…" Lee's well-modulated voice blasted from each corner of the Quidditch pitch. It was the first game of the school year. The stands were bursting with students and Gryffindor pride was in full swing. The Ravenclaws were on our side, at least most of them. Cho Chang and her friends were actually wearing red and gold scarves. Not that I care, or anything. Grr.

"Ok, team. This is it." Oliver's nervous voice snapped me from my thoughts. He called a huddle.

We knew the rest of his speech, actually. He has used the same pep talk for the last three years. I looked over at Fred and George who were discreetly mimicking Oliver behind Angelina and Alicia. I nudged Harry who was beside me cracking his knuckles and we shared a knowing smile.

"Right. All in," Oliver commanded, placing a hand with his palm facing down at the center of our circle. We piled up our hands and screamed "Gryffindor" in unison. That was our battle cry and now, we were about to go to war.

"Bell! Johnson! Potter! Spinnet! Weasley! Weasley! And their captain, Wood!" Lee finished and the Gryffindor stands erupted in thunderous applause, a stark contrast to the deafening silence from the badgers.

The sky was a lovely shade of bright blue, streaked by light grey clouds that shielded the brightness from the sun. The weather was perfect. The elements were a non-factor. It was always a problem whenever the winds competed with us.

I pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear as we stood in the middle of the pitch, watching the pre-game pleasantries commence. Alicia gave me a pat on the back, I looked over my shoulder and winked. (We made up that morning before breakfast. A pack of my favourite jelly beans was involved in the negotiations.)

After Madame Hooch released the balls, we mounted our brooms and the buzzer sounded to signify the beginning of the match.

With all my might, I made for a strong kick off, ascending the skies with my robes whipping wildly behind me. A Hufflepuff chaser had possession of the quaffle, streaking past everyone toward the goal posts and launching it on the middle hoop to Oliver's waiting arms.

Left unmarked, I waved my arms and Oliver passed the Quaffle towards me. I shot toward the other side of the pitch tucking the ball under my arm as I fended of one opponent after the other. At the corner of my eye, I saw Alicia positioned for a shot at the lowest goal post. I performed a practiced no-look pass towards her. She caught it and launched it toward the hoop and we scored our first goal.

Everything was going as planned. A Hawk's eye formation gave us our second goal. After 20 minutes, the score was 80-20, in favor of us.

"Bloody hell, Fred. Defense!" Oliver's hoarse voice screamed from the scoring end, as a bludger sent by a Hufflepuff beater almost hit Angelina. Angered by the opposing beater, Fred retaliated by whacking the bludger strongly towards Ernie Macmillan, who was marking me.

Macmillan ducked the bludger, which hit my arm and the next thing I knew I landed with a thud on the grassy field and a sharp pain shot up from my limb. I struggled to get up as I heard the whistle, but my back was sore from the impact and the throbbing pain from my arm was impairing my motor skills. I didn't want them to stop the game because of my clumsiness. I took a bludger attack back in my second year and I didn't even wince. But this time, the pain was unimaginable. I closed my eyes, hot tears flowing from them as I lay helplessly on the ground.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck," I clutched my arm as I struggled to contain my voice.

"We need to bring her to the Hospital Wing." George called out urgently.

Fred sounded worried as hell. "Kates, I'm so sorry."

"Oh my god, Kates," Angelina shrieked.

"Kates, are you ok?"

Though my vision was slightly blurred by my tears, I knew it was Oliver who was beside me, squeezing my hand. What a time for hand-holding! My teammates were circled around me, each of them looking equally nervous.

"My shoulder," I spoke hoarsely. "I think it's broken."

As if on cue, Madame Pomfrey entered the scene. She knelt beside me, mumbling angrily about girls playing such a violent game as she examined my arm and shoulder. After scolding the Gryffindor team for "crowding the injured patient," she whipped her wand out and pointed it near my elbow.

A cool, tingling sensation replaced the white-hot pain from my shoulder, arm and back. After a couple of seconds, my entire right arm went numb, hanging lifelessly on my side.

"Feel better?" Madame Pomfrey asked, helping me to sit up straight.

I nodded, releasing a sigh of relief. At least the pain was gone. "Can I play again?" I was insane.

"Oh no you're not, missy. You have spunk to want to play again after that bad fall," she said sternly, shaking her head at me.

"Spunky. That's our Katie." Fred quipped.

"We're going to have chat about this, Weasley," Oliver glared at Fred, walking over to me the same time George advanced. The two extended their hands uniformly, and I felt a strange feeling of panic as I was left to choose which hand to take since I only had one able hand. _Eanie meanie…_

"Oh for goodness sake, shove off," Alicia pushed the two lads aside, taking my free hand with Angie supporting my back.

"Thanks," I told my girl friends then turned to Oliver and George.

"Thanks anyway," I told the two lads who for a moment ignored me as they gazed at each other as though having a mental conversation. _Err… guys?_

"You gave me quite a scare for a moment there," George said smiling warmly, tapping my non-injured shoulder with his gloved hand. "I'm glad you're safe."

I could see Angie and Alicia giggling in my periphery.

"We'll drop by the Hospital wing after the match," Angie promised.

"Ok, I'll see you lot then."

Led by my loving team, all the Gryffindors applauded and with a final wave at the stands for their encouragement and support, I followed Madame Pomfrey inside the castle to nurse my injury.

* * *

**_A/N_: Goodness! Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews. I sent PMs to each one of the signed reviews so I hope you checked those out. Special thanks to the scout master (sorry if the language bothers you a bit) and Sarah (Thanks. I really work hard on the dialogue so I'm glad you like it). I didn't get to send personal replies to you guys because you weren't signed in.**

**Don't forget to leave a REVIEW, mkay? I want lots and lots :D**

**_Next_: The competition heats up as a heavily medicated Katie bunks up in the hospital wing. Fun times are ahead and you know it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five  
**(Day 5 – P.M.)

* * *

My shoulder and arms graduated from excruciatingly painful to alarmingly numb. After downing an ample amount of Skele-fix aka the most vile liquid I've ever drank next to my dad's scotch, I settled myself in the farthest bed in the Hospital Wing, my back against a pillow and my legs covered by clinical white sheets as I waited for Madame Pomfrey with the bandages.

I gazed longingly outside the window, making out the Quidditch pitch from afar. The athletes were patches and blurs of red and yellow, hovering above the ground. Every once in a while the cheers from the crowd would get louder, which I understood as a successful goal attempt. I kept fidgeting in my mattress, the thought of being the potential cause of my team's loss was deeply unnerving.

"Miss Bell," the old nurse approached us with a small smile. "I took the liberty of owling your parents about your accident."

"Oh. Thank you," I said with a curt nod, holding out my arm as she had motioned.

"You're quite lucky that you didn't break your back," she said, taking my limb with her delicate hands. "I've seen worse accidents in my time."

I nodded simply, not quite sure what was the correct response. As she looped the gauze over and over while mumbling incoherent phrases about her apparent dislike for the sport, my mind wandered off to the pitch again. I'd most certainly be damned if they lost. I'm sure Oliver would drown himself in the showers if we surrendered our FIRST game of the season. Or he'd probably drown _me_. Then again, he wouldn't do that. He's been really friendly with me over the past days.

Save for the occasional flirting, there were no previous indications that Oliver wanted to develop a deeper relationship with me. It's quite strange that he suddenly wants to be around me more often and he gives me those weird looks _I_ used to give him. He's been nice. Too nice, in fact, that it almost seemed like he _knew_ I was trying to get over him.

Ok. Maybe I'm just paranoid. But if somebody did rat me out thinking it'd a great bet material or anice prank, expect cold-blooded murder. Definitely not by Avada Kedavra, but a slow painful death involving a rusty knife, sulfuric acid and…

"You're done," the mediwitch's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" I glanced at her then down at my perfectly mummified arm. Horrifying. And I was to thank her for this piece of art, I suppose. "Err… Thank you."

She nodded, stashing the gauze and things on her basket of supplies. "Now, Miss Bell, get some rest and finish that," she gazed pointing at the cup of Skele-fix sitting threateningly on the table beside me.

I swallowed hard, still feeling the bitterness from my dose earlier, but nodded anyway.

* * *

Later, a boisterous gang of students burst inside the Hospital Wing, much to the surprise of a very aggravated looking mediwitch. I bolted upright, straining my neck slightly to find Angie and Alicia, sweaty and dirty as ever, bearing similar expressions of glee.

"We won! 260-60!"

The hospital wing air was suddenly filled with the smell of grass and sweat.

"Only six visitors are allowed!" bellowed the irritable Madame Pomfrey, advancing in large strides and waving her index finger in the air.

"One… two…" Fred started bopping each person's heads as he counted out loud. "Yep, we are six." Fred, George, Oliver, Angelina, Alicia, and Harry.

Looking a bit dejected, Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms on her chest, her lips aquiver. "Well you lot best keep your voices down. This is an infirmary not your local pub. Merlin knows you're not even of age…" her voice trailed as she returned to her station.

"That's amazing!" I gushed, lifting my arms to hug my friends but decided against it, remembering I was half-paralyzed.

Alicia and Angelina beamed, giving me a happy sandwich hug anyway.

"So how are you feeling, Kates," George asked, sitting on the mattress next to me.

"Drugged. The medications are making me dizzy," I replied, noticing he had a bit of dirt on the side of his cheeks. I reached out to rub it off with my thumb.

"Er.. thanks," an odd pink tinge appeared on his cheeks.

"So Kate, how long do you reckon are you staying here?" Oliver, whose sweaty hair was more ruffled than usual, asked with a grin. His rugged look was very delicious, I must admit.

"Madame Pomfrey wants me to stay overnight, actually," I replied, frowning slightly.

"Well, we've decided to postpone the celebrations till tomorrow so you can join the festivities, right George?" Fred said, giving his twin a nudge. George nodded.

"Oh thanks guys."

After a few jolly minutes of conversing about the match, highlighted by Fred's tragi-comic reenactment of my accident, Madame Pomfrey decided to wow us with her amazing powers of alliteration, suggesting that my "filthy, flying friends" wash up before "infecting the infirmary." Several complaints were issued afterward but my team was sent off anyway. As they all filed out the door, I noticed somebody was going against the current.

George was explaining something to Madame Pomfrey, pointing to something in my general direction. I looked at the end table and found his tatty dragon-hyde gloves sitting beside my untouched glass of Skele-fix.

He ran hastily towards me, the layers of his fiery hair flapping up and down. "I…"

"Yeah, I know," I motioned to the gloves. "Oh, George, can you bring me a couple of sweets later? My taste buds are quite bitter from all the Skele-fix."

"You got it," he nodded, pocketing the gloves then leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Get well Kates," he said and fled. What a sweetheart.

* * *

The infirmary smelled odd—like old canvass, medicine and loneliness. Shelves upon shelves of unidentified liquid gave out the extraordinary clinical scent pervading in the air. But the loneliness? It must be because it was dark and there were a lot of empty beds.

After eating a rather bland dinner, freshening up and changing into the pajamas Madame Pomfrey lent me, I was back on my bed, boredly observing a line of ants marching up the wall out of lack of better things to do as I downed another glass of Skele-fix. I've been waiting for my sweets but George hasn't arrived still.

"Kate?"

Well I'll be damned. "Oliver, hi!"

He came in wearing red pajama pants and a white wifebeater underneath his school coat, toting a bundle of assorted reading materials in his hands.

"I brought you some magazines. Maybe you were getting bored staring at the walls or something," Oliver smiled, placing a pile of quidditch-related magazines on my bed side.

"Oh." How nice. And predictable. But the gesture made me smile nonetheless. "Thank you."

He pulled up a chair and sat by my bedside, looking at me with a sort of shy smile playing in his lips. We held each other's gaze for a few seconds, and all the while, I was very much aware that my hair was a mess, my breath was probably as vile as the medicine I've been drinking and that he was, well, there… right in front of me. And we were alone.

"And..." he broke the silence. "I think you'd be quite pleased to know that Alicia and Angelina sent you your homework."

He pulled my Potions book from under the pile of magazines and presenting it to me with a flourish. I groaned.

"Those inconsiderate cows," I shook my head and sighed at the sodding book now on my bed. "I can't even write because of my arm." Seriously, they should have sent me something a little more thoughtful or compassionate, like my favorite Alice band or candies.

"Fear not," he said, extracting a pencil and rolled parchment from the inside of his coat. "If you didn't know, I'm quite the expert in Potions."

"Oh I highly doubt that," I smirked, noting the incident when I saw him skulking out of Snape's class for blowing up his cauldron which spewed its contents all over the Potions master's front. I heard he had to serve two weeks detention for that mess up.

"It was an accident," he laughed good-naturedly, ruffling his hair slightly so that some of it was sticking out. Cute. "I didn't know you were there though."

"Oh," I bit my lip guiltily. I had that habit of passing by his class on my way to the lavatories even if it was out of the way. He was looking at me expectantly.

"I was sent by er... Flitwick to give Snape err... something," I lied hastily, but he seemed to have bought it. I think.

"Well, seeing as you don't need my services…" he feigned dejection, sighing heavily and clutching his heart. "I best be off."

"Hang on. Don't go," I said a little too quickly as he got up from his chair. Merlin, I sounded bloody desperate!

He grinned, "So, are you enlisting my help with your homework?"

"Yes."

"Shall we crack on then?"

* * *

**SKELE-FIX  
**From the makers of Skele-gro  
_Side effects_: rashes, slight nausea, tingling of the skin  
_Excessive intake may cause_: delusion, hyperactivity, insomnia

* * *

We had finished my homework over an hour ago but he insisted on accompanying me for a while. Madame Pomfrey, who seemed to a bit taken by Oliver's charm, simply approved. So there we were tucked in a dimly lit corner of the infirmary, swapping silly little anecdotes about life in general with the orange light from lamp on the end table serving as our only source of light.

It was mad. I was laughing like a hyena on helium and Oliver wasn't even being in the same level of hilarious as George or Fred during their bad days. Effects of the medication, I daresay. A potentially dangerous reaction, if I may add.

"I'm glad you like that joke," Oliver said, looking quite pleased with himself.

I giggled like there was a niffler inside my pajamas. "Sure I did. It was funny."

"Do you think I'm funny?"

I was severely drugged, but I still had some sense left in me. "Yeah, umm, sometimes. Then again, I'm best mates with quite possibly the biggest pranksters in Hogwarts so it's hard to, you know, compare and stuff."

"George..." he muttered under his breath. "You two are quite close, eh?"

"Yeah, we are."

"Are... you... dating?" he asked reluctantly, giving an awkward pause after each word.

"NO!" I couldn't quite remember why I said it with so much negation, but I did. "No. We're really not."

It seemed like the response Oliver wanted to hear because his lips curled to the sides as his gaze shifted downward, strands of piecey brown hair falling over his face. "That's good to hear."

_GOOD TO HEAR HE SAYS!_ As I looked at him and he looked at me with his boyish grin, I suddenly felt tingles all over my body.

"It's quite late. I'm sure you're a bit keen to get some shut eye yourself," he got up, placing his hands inside his pockets and standing on the balls of his feet like a shy schoolboy. I found it quite amusing.

"Well, alright," I nodded. "Thanks for everything."

"Don't mention it," he leaned forward and just when I thought he was enveloping me in a nice bear hug, his hand was stroking my cheek and our faces were getting closer...

And in that sheltered part of the Hospital Wing, during a particularly late time in the night, Oliver Wood gave me my first kiss.

* * *

**_A/N_: Like it? Hate it?**

**Just a note to all my readers, this story is a GW/KB/OW triangle (obviously, right?). Although it's sorted under the characters Katie B./Oliver W., it doesn't exactly mean they're going to end up together. But I'm not saying they're not either. You never know really… So for now, I suggest you keep an open mind and tell me what you think of this chapter.**

**The GO button is waiting to be clicked. :) So please, please, please ar ee vee aye ee dobolyu… _REVIEW_.**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER6  
****(Days six to eight)**

* * *

The next day, my happiness was almost uncontainable that I thought I was going to spontaneously combust. I wasn't able to sleep properly, but, hey, Oliver kissed me! Who cared if I had massive bags under my eyes? I was in such a jovial mood throughout the day that Madame Pomfrey kept checking my temperature and muttering something about medicine-induced delirium. Whatever. 

Around three o' clock in the afternoon, as the mediwitch disentangled the last bit of dressing from my arm, Angelina and Alicia arrived to fetch me.

"How's your arm, love?" Alicia asked, sitting on the bed next to me.

"Good as new," I beamed, stretching it out for them to see. There was still some sort of twinge when I twisted it a certain way, but it was nothing I couldn't manage.

"That's great!" Angelina gave me a hug, thrusting a pack of Bertie Botts in my hand afterwards.

"Aww, thanks. I've been wanting these since last night…" I said, remembering that George was supposed to come over, but that he could be quite forgetful sometimes.

"Actually, we just found that lying by the doorway," Alicia explained sheepishly, after which Angelina shot her a look.

"So much for your thoughtfulness." I rolled my eyes jokingly at the pair, pulling the package open. "But that's ok, because I feel uh-maze-ing." I said smugly, popping a red jelly bean in my mouth. Cherry. Mmm.

"I know that look," Angie said, sitting on the bed next to me, intrigued. And so, without further ado, I narrated the remarkable swing of things.

After a rouse of uncontrollable giddy laughter (Angelina actually tumbled backwards and fell flat on her arse), we were thrown out of the hospice, but not before hugging the uptight mediwitch who threatened to cut off my arm if I ever came back again. She meant it jokingly, of course. I think.

We spent the rest of the day getting ready for the celebration tonight. It wasn't a big bash, just a little soiree of sorts to celebrate Gryffindor winning the first match of the season, but it wouldn't hurt to look pretty any given day! Anything to increase the possibility of getting snogged again was always a good thing.

* * *

Gryffindor really throws the best parties. 

We were dancing quite inebriatedly as music from the Wizarding Wireless blasted from every corner of the Gryffindor commons. I waved my hands in the air, enjoying the liberties of having feeling back in my limbs as Oliver, who hadn't left my company since the party started, bobbed his head coolly in front of me, a bottle of butterbeer laced in his fingers.

Angelina and Alicia were mingling with several fifth-years, shooting me and Oliver teasing looks every once in a while. Lee and George were working overtime, sneaking in grub after grub from the kitchens, while Fred negotiated with Percy to allow the extension of the celebrations past midnight. It was, after all, the first celebration of the year and the response from the lowerclassmen was overwhelming.

"...surely you don't want to hinder the enhancement of intra-house ties..." I heard Fred say as the arguing pair passed us, with Percy holding a cup of butterbeer himself, the filthy hypocrite. I never understood why Percy was so goddamn snooty for a Weasley. I'd met most of them from staying over at the Burrow last year, and Percy, among the lot, had no sense of humour whatsoever.

We were talking about professional Quidditch when all of a sudden, Oliver went incredibly off-topic and suggested that…

"We should go out, Kate," he said with a sly grin as he took my hand and twirled me about.

"We should?" I asked surprised, seeing the hopeful expression in his face. I was about to launch myself at him and say, "Take me, I'm yours," (scratch the last part), when suddenly, a certain black-haired Ravenclaw came to mind.

"But…" I bit my lip, stopping myself.

"But what?"

"Well, you're supposed to be going out with Cho Chang, right?"

"Oh," he laughed heartily, sniggering at my face as though I had said something silly.

"I'm glad that you find this incredibly hilarious," I said, feeling rather offended.

"Well, Katie Bell, I'm not supposed to be going out with her because she fancies another bloke," he explained simply, taking a swig of butterbeer.

"So you're saying... had she not fancied this other lad, you'd be dating her in a snap, yeah?" I tilted my head slightly, waiting for a response.

"No, no, no. I didn't say that," he recanted, looking at me, slightly panic-stricken. "Look, Cho is my neighbour and we've been friends for as long as I remember. But I don't fancy her. I can't when I'm smitten with somebody else…"

My heart raced. Oh Merlin! He's talking about me, right? Should I buy this? Come to think of it, his accent is quite similar to Cho's...

He looked so woebegone and so sincere that I couldn't force myself to be angry at him. Besides, Oliver Wood had just asked me out. Was I in the position to decline that invitation? I think not.

"Well?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do think we should."

Under the pretense of whispering something in my ear, he planted a discreet kiss on my cheek before dancing with me some more.

So there. I never thought I'd ever say this, but Oliver and I are going to Hosmeade together on Saturday. Yay? Most definitely!

* * *

DAY 7

"You are so lucky, Kates," Angelina said as she braided her hair in front of the mirror.

"You know what, I think I am quite lucky these days," I nodded with a grin, fixing my tie beside her. "Where do you think he'll take me?"

"Quality Quidditch Supplies," Alicia quipped.

I chucked the nearest item within my grasp at her. It happened to be a boar brush. She caught it (Damn chaser reflexes!) and used it to tame her wavy tresses.

"Thanks," she smirked.

I threw her a dirty look, resisting the urge to comment about Lee's lack of date-planning skills. Trust me, this was a topic she always dodged.

"Wherever it is, I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself, as long as he doesn't get date-planning tips from Lee," Angie said, coming to my defense.

"Thank you!" I clapped my hands appreciatively as Alicia did the mature and stuck her tongue out at us.

"I hope George doesn't mind…" I said, thinking aloud.

"Umm… why would he?" Angelina asked, fixing the contents of her bag.

"Well, it's always been me and him in Hogsmeade and now, he has to go with either of you guys because I'm going with Oliver."

Angelina suddenly had this awkward expression in her face. "Has he not told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Oh, so you still don't know yet…" Alicia grinned wickedly.

"That night you were in the Hospital Wing, he told me he would inform you about it," Angie said, completely ignoring the dazed look on my face.

"'It?' What's 'it'?" I was starting get panicky.

"I'm pretty sure he went up to see you; I saw him leave the portrait hole."

"Yeah, I saw him too," Alicia chimed in.

"Can anybody just bloody tell me what the fuss is about?" I was going spare for being dead clueless on the matter and for the two of them going on and on without giving me a proper reply.

"Maybe you should sit down."

"Don't be stupid Alicia, I don't need to sit down. What is it?"

"Somebody asked George out after we got back from visiting you…"

A breath caught in my throat. "Really?" I crossed my arms on my chest. "Who?"

"You wouldn't believe this, but…Cho Chang."

And suddenly something clicked. George was that bloke that Cho fancied. Why didn't I see this coming?

"Small sodding world, innit?" Alicia shrugged, getting up from her bed and marching to the loos.

"Yeah…" I nodded contemplatively, sitting on the foot of my bed. "Small world."

* * *

It's one thing for George to be dating Cho, but it's a completely different story if he dates Cho without telling me. He's not obligated to, I suppose, but I am, after all, his best mate. Plus, everybody already knew. He knows I hate being left in the dark. 

Throughout Arithmancy, a class we shared with the Ravenclaws, I kept dropping hints to give him some some sort of opening to a discussion on the recent development in his erstwhile stagnant dating life. There was, "Cho curled her hair that morning," and "what's the name of that lad beside Cho?" and the worst and most obvious mention of all, "Ha-CHO!" when I sneezed. He didn't take the baits, though. In fact, he acted like he was deeply uninterested, steering the discussion on his and Fred's new inventions.

I even tried to catch him giving her his signature George Weasley grin when she passed. But surprisingly, while Cho beamed at him so cheerfully with her dimples in full display, George lifted a

In my mind, I set up an ultimatum. If he doesn't open up by dinner tomorrow, I was going to confront him.

* * *

DAY 8

And so I did.

As he had asked me after supper, I met him at the common room to do our homework. When I went down toting my books, quills, and parchment, he was already downstairs, poured over his Charms book, with his study materials sprawled all over the wooden study table by the window.

He lifted his head up, smiling when he saw me approach him. I sat across of him, stacking my books on the desk.

"So where are you taking Cho?" I asked, wasting no time, as I laid my Charms book open.

He looked up from writing in his notebook, a look of pure and utter shock etched across his face. "You know about it? Who told you?"

DUH. Angelina and Alicia are blabber-mouths, who else?

"I read it in the papers this morning," I rolled my eyes, extracting a pencil from my pocket. "I'm slightly hurt you didn't tell me."

"You are aware that I didn't—it was she who, you know, not me…" he stressed.

"Yes, yes, George," I said dismissively, laughing weakly at the flustered expression on his face. "What woman wouldn't want to sink their teeth into the delicious George Weasley?"

"Ehh… I don't know about that but you should have known it'd only be a matter of time till these babies reeled someone in," he replied jokingly, rolling up his sleeves and flexing his non-existent biceps—always his source of pride.

I gave him an 'are you for real?' look, seizing his arm and pushing it back down the table. I swear, you give this boy a slight push, and he gives back a mighty shove in return.

The light-hearted moment evaporated quickly, soon replaced by seriousness and urgency.

"Well, I was supposed to tell you, but I didn't know how to run it by you."

"That shouldn't have been hard, unless you didn't want me to know..." I reasoned.

He looked away, but not before I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes.

"I just can't understand why you kept it from me," I said diplomatically, reaching out to place my hand on his arm. "Just know that I'm happy for you."

He shrugged his shoulders, grinning crookedly. "It's, um, cool, I suppose. Thanks."

I can't believe this guy! A girl—a prominent and pretty (never mind my residual thought on the matter) girl, at that, asks him out and all he says is "cool"? It's not like he gets asked out everyday, you know. The last time he went on a date was… let's just say, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

"So where _are_ you taking her?" I just had to know.

"I was thinking of Zonko's, the Shrieking Shack…" he began, tracing the end of his quill along his jawline.

"You can't possibly be serious."

"What? We always go there."

"Exactly. You're going on a date, George," I pointed out.

"What constitutes a date anyway?"

"A nice stroll along the shops, a spot of tea or butterbeer, long conversations with a bit of flirting. You know, that nice, pleasant stuff."

"Ah, if that's the case then we've been dating for two years now," he noted, deliberately looking away just to intrigue me.

"No!" What the hell?

"But you said—"

"George…" I said his name in that motherly tone that always put him off.

"Oh come off it, Kates. You know I'm teasing," George gave me a wink before scratching another sentence on his parchment.

I shook my head, smiling a bit. "Going back, I'm not sure if that's Cho's speed. Those places aren't really for the faint-hearted, no offense to her, but she does seem a bit delicate for a joke shop."

"I suppose she is quite fragile," he speculated. "As opposed to you, Kates," he reached out, pinching my arm. "You're all burly and muscly and quite like an amazon, really."

"That's a horrible thing to say, George," I snapped, rubbing the area that he abused.

"How are things with Ollie-wollie-trollie-doily…" he asked casually, ignoring the death glare I was giving him.

"Quit calling him that," I chided.

"We'd used it before and you didn't seem to mind."

"Well I do now."

"Why?"

"How would you like it if I start calling Cho, Chobacca or something?" I cocked an eyebrow up at him.

He stared at me blankly, his brows furrowed.

"Never mind," I waved my hand airily, remembering that the Star Wars reference meant nothing to a wizard. "It's a muggle thing. Forget it. Just stop calling Oliver that."

After a couple more minutes chatting about unrelated gibberish, we were back on the same sodding topic.

"Where do you reckon should I bring her? Not that there's a wide array of choices," George asked, resting his chin on his palm.

"Madam Puddifoot's serves great espressos," I suggested, recalling one memorable incident. "Remember when we had to stay there because it was raining so hard and…"

"…the owner of that underpants shop chased us down the street because you nicked one of their leopard-print thongs…"

"I didn't nick it, you prat. I didn't realize it got stuck on my kitten-heel!" I stood up and whacked him so hard with my leather-bound notebook that some nearby students actually flinched.

"Just—ow!—admit it, Kates," his hand flew up his back, before wagging his eyebrows maniacally. "You're a right wildcat between the sheets. RAWR!"

And then came another mighty WHACK! before he yelped in pain and I had to chase him out the portrait hole, down the stairs, past many intrigued students, before I pinned him down, tired and panting, by the suit of armor in the third hall corridor.

I guess it's back to normal between me and George and it feels pretty good.

* * *

I never liked Cho Chang—let's get that fact out in the open before anything else. It's one of those aversions you can't explain. Maybe it's her pin-straight hair or that cloud of giggles she and her friends seem to always be surrounded with... who knows. I just don't like her. Period. But if George fancies her, I suppose I can live with it. He doesn't like Oliver for me either, so... 

Touche.

* * *

**A/N**: Right. So I tallied all the votes. (Not that I asked for them, really, but some of you took it upon yourselves to review with your favoured eventual pairing.) I only counted those who literally begged me to pair them up. Lol. 

**Oliver/Katie – 8; George/Katie – 5** – Well, your votes do not have actual bearing on how I'm going to wrap this baby up, but it's quite interesting to know your specuations. I just hope you are reading this story because you like it overall (writing, humour, pairings, etc.) and not just because it's going to be OWKB or GWKB eventually. I hope you won't be dejected or disappointed in the end.

**Thanks to ALL you guys who recentlyreviewed or added the story in their faves or alerts**: Azareth Sakura, becca5w, Black Flaming Heart, Go your own way, Hey There Delilah, Icelandic Morning Glory, idioteque exits, Intoxicate-me, jimjenks, Meshugenah, Miss Anthrope, Miss Rix, Pissy Abyssinian, RoxieWeasley, snowgem, sweetblonde14, The Painted Lady, vballchick979, abercrombie 18, Ara7, DarkenedRoseThorn, EmilyDaniellePotter, FizzingWhizbeez, Higher than Hope, Intoxicate-me, Just-Katie-Jane12, mirfain251, Moonstone, QueenieKai, readswim04, Riana, sumdea, UnamedFreak, xtotallyatpeacex, anonymous, katdance666 **I'm glad you like this so far.**

A big HUG to my betas **Christine **and** Jaice**, who permitted me to invade their erstwhile peaceful existence. :)

This chapter may have bored you to tears, but it is necessary. You know how that goes. Don't forget to **R E V I E W**, please. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7  
****(Day 11 - Friday, Eve of the Big Date)**

----------

Snippets of various conversations involving my current Object of Scorn (Cho Chang) in the past days, mostly with Angelina giving unsolicited and exasperating comments just to spite me. I never thought I'd say this but thank Merlin for Alicia.

**_Wednesday, Library  
_**Angelina: Cho borrowed a pencil from me in Charms and kept thanking me like I saved her life or something.  
(Short pause)  
Angelina: And the strange thing about it is she seemed so sincere. She had the mildest, softest Scottish accent that's quite endearing.  
Me: (rolls eyes) Well whatever. I just don't know if she's good enough for George…  
Alicia: She looks way better than Greta, I'll give her that.  
Me: That's true, but, I don't know, doesn't Chang seem needy? Emotionally, I mean.  
Angelina: You are just being mean to her.  
Alicia: Chang asked for it, Angie.  
Me: (puts arm around Alicia) Thank you.  
Me: She always gets the great guys.  
Alicia: Yeah.  
Me: I mean, Cedric, then Harry, then Davies. Now George.  
Angelina: You could've had George, you know.  
Me: Shut it, Johnson. Oliver might hear.

_**Wednesday, Dorm  
**_Angelina: If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a huge girl crush on her.  
Me: (incredulous) What!  
Angelina: You talk about her all the time. I really don't get why you're so angry at her.  
Me: I'm not angry. I'm just annoyed. Besides, Alicia doesn't like her either.  
Angelina: Alicia _dislikes_ her. You, my friend, HATE her with the capital H. There's a massive difference.  
Me: Pfft.

_**Thursday, Potions  
**_Alicia: She was glancing at George during Astronomy.  
Me: I know.  
Angelina: Did you tell George?  
Me: He didn't ask.  
Angelina: (rolls eyes)

**_Thursday, Dorm  
_**Angelina: Y'know what Kates, you've been acting like a jeal—  
Me: (chokes her with a pillow) Don't you dare!  
Alicia: Aw go to sleep both of you! We have Quidditch practice in the morning.

----------

It was 3:45 in the morning. While majority of the Hogwarts population slept soundly, their bodies wrapped around warm comforters and their faces melting into their soft feather pillows, we were out in the pitch, enduring the chilly, October morning air as we strapped on our gear.

"Why do we have dawn practices?" Angelina grumbled.

"Because it's Oliver, love, and there's no known cure," Fred replied, placing a comforting arm around his girlfriend.

I let out a groggy laugh, my uncombed, unwashed blonde hair spilling over my shoulders as I bent over and buckled on my shinguards. I was wearing the regulation trousers and a random T-shirt I pulled out from my dresser.

Fred was right. It was distinctly Oliver to schedule a Quidditch practice at the crack of dawn, despite the fact that our next match wasn't in three weeks. No other captain was this serious or obsessive, whichever word was more appropriate. He believed practicing in the dark would vastly improve our accuracy. (Eye strain, notwithstanding.)

The high-power stadium lights that illuminated the entire pitch made it apparent that everyone, still sleepy and groggy from being yanked out of their comfortable sleep, looked so irked to the core. Even Potter was swearing under his breath.

Obviously, holding training at this lowly hour was rather inconvenient for those of us who wanted rest, but I was never bothered with it. Sure I issued complaints here and there, but I treated like any other training we have. In fact, I even prefered it to the practices scheduled immediately after classes because I was always too drained to attend those.

I collapsed on the freshly mowed grass, spreading my legs in a V as I began to stretch.

Not long after, Oliver walked out from the locker areas, wearing a faded purple shirt with the Tutshill Tornados emblem in the middle and black work-out trousers. He looked rough as usual, brown hair all over his head and his eyes tired from sleep as he dragged the trunk of equipment across the grassy field.

As I got up from the ground, it suddenly hit me that this was our first practice session since he asked me out. Knowing Oliver, however, there wouldn't be any preferential treatment. Besides, I wouldn't want it any other way. Compared with Angelina and Alicia, who initially tried out for the team just to meet boys, I was really deadset in being an athlete. Still am.

He stood a couple of paces away from me, writing something on the clipboard he was holding then began the rollcall, "Bell, Johnson…"

"Why do _you_ have to be first?" Alicia whispered in my ear.

"It's in alphabetical order," I gave Alicia a playful push with my hip as I pulled my hair up in a messy pony tail and Oliver ended the attendance check with, "Weasley."

"Right, everyone. I'm pleased to see you all here. We're playing Ravenclaw next and I don't want anyone half-hearting training for any reason." At this, Oliver shot George a look that clearly told everyone what he meant. "Ravenclaw is a strong team..."

After a short spiel on Oliver's occular inspection of "the opponent," he instructed us to mount our brooms and proceed with our drills.

----------

The scent of fresh grass as morning dew rose from the ground teemed the morning air. After an hour or so, the sun has risen sufficiently to see that everyone was exhausted from rigorous training. After Alicia's successful left goal post shot, which Oliver had described as "flawlessly executed," he blew his whistle to signal the end of the training. Finally.

As we all descended the ground, Harry tapped me on the shoulder. "Wood said it's your turn to fix up the equipment."

"Oh, right. Let me just get my towel. I'm kind of sweaty."

Far off in the field Oliver was already gathering some of the remembralls he and Harry used for catching and speed drills.

"I'm dying for a shower!" Alicia exclaimed, grabbing her bag hastily and zooming inside the castle on her broom.

Angelina jerked her thumb towards the direction Alicia headed to. "I'm heading inside as well. I'm famished and dirty."

"Right, I'll see you later," I nodded, noting everyone's looks of exhaustion. Fred lifted a hand and followed his girlfriend out the gates.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my palm and unzipped my gym bag. As I parted the closure of my bag, I found the most beautiful long-stemmed rose resting daintily on top of my towel. A note was attached to it in a red ribbon: _Are we still on for tomorrow? P.S. I'm not taking no for an answer. –O. Wood_

I giggled slightly at the way he signed his name: O. Wood. Like Oliver won't suffice. Even Ol would work. The boy is just too ridiculously formal sometimes that he sounds silly.

"Want me to wait for you?" George offered.

"No," I declined, still smiling at the lovely flower inside my bag. "Go on. I'll meet you at breakfast."

"Well alright." I could sense the reluctance in his voice but I knew he'd understand.

As soon as the others were out of the pitch, I jogged towards Oliver, a goofy grin plastered on my face. He was kneeling on the grass, locking the big trunk of equipment with his wand. The faded purple shirt he was wearing was a deeper shade of violet now from his sweat, the fabric clinging tightly to his muscular arms. Very nice indeed.

"Hey," he greeted as I approached.

"I thought _I_ was supposed to be cleaning up," I noted.

"Well you can help me lug this in," he said with a smile, getting up from the ground and shoving his wand inside his pocket.

"Ok," I agreed, walking over to the other side of the trunk, and we lifted it by the handle simultaneously.

"You hadn't forgotten about tomorrow, I hope?"

I shook my head no as we walked towards the locker areas. "Of course not. Thanks for the lovely flower, by the way."

"I wasn't sure if you liked flowers so I just gave you just one in case you didn't like it. I'd feel bad if you binned an entire bouquet," he explained sheepishly.

"All girls like flowers, Oliver," I said matter-of-factly. And in a stroke of momentary boldness, I added, "Especially when they come from cute lads." Oh Merlin! I just came on to him in my sticky and sweat-drenched glory. Gutsy.

His mouth made an 'oh,' before breaking into a grin. "Thanks," he laughed a bit, casting a side-long glance at me. "You're cute, too," he added as an afterthought.

We stashed the trunk beside the other similar crates of equipment inside a stuffy room at the back of the dugout.

"I didn't know you're a Tutshill fan," I said, pointing at his shirt as we walked out the archway towards the stands were we left our brooms and things.

"I'm not," he said, looking down on the TT logo. "I just like the shirt. It's quite comfortable."

"Wouldn't hold up well with the Puddlemere scouts if they saw you in that though."

He shrugged. "I'd rather be with the Magpies to be quite honest."

"I'm rooting for the Magpies, too!" I exclaimed. "Rundale and Shevchenko are brilliant!"

"Ruddybrilliant, those Magpies chasers," he agreed, glancing at me as he bent over and seized his knapsack and broom.

I swung my gym bag over my shoulder, smiling at him, and grabbed my Comet Two Sixty by the handle.

It was an unspoken agreement that we walked together towards the common room, whisked by casual conversation about the Montrose Magpies, which turned out to be our favourite team.

We reached the commons still gushing about the Magpies' recent rout of the Cannons two days ago, before the conversation died a natural death and the matter of saying goodbye was presented before us.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you later."

"Sure."

I moved closer, tiptoeing slightly to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. (I was entitled to, after all, since we were going out!)

But without forewarning, Oliver deliberately turned his face to the left and my lips pressed against his with momentary hesitation. He smiled against my mouth as it hung stupidly in surprise. His soft lips grazed mine in languid pace, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. I closed my eyes, a feeling of light-headedness taking over my system.

I pulled away after a couple of seconds, a minute perhaps (but who's really counting?), feeling a bit out of breath.

"Bye," I said, turning on my heel and suppressing the need to squee loudly in his presence. After disappearing behind the door to the girls' dorms, I leaned on the nearest wall, sliding down and melting into a puddle of goo on the cemented floor.

I knew there was a reason why I _loved_ dawn practices!

----------

Like all Friday evenings, my friends and I were lounging in the common room like a pride of lazy lions soaking the heat of the fire. Angelina had her legs stretched out on the floor, with Fred lying on her lap. Alicia and Lee were cuddled up in one of the sofas, while George and I shared the long couch.

To my dismay and discomfort, the main topic of discussion was my foiled 28-day plan. Like great supportive girl friends, Angelina and Alicia both came to my rescue. Fred, George and Lee, meanwhile, teased me for being such a pushover.

But is it my fault, really? Is it my fault that Oliver is so bloody gorgeous? I don't think so. Is it my fault that he suddenly fancies me? Absolutely not.

I was a victim. A victim of a cruel twist of fate stuck in existential funk. Err.. right.

Besides, would I pass up on an opportunity to go out with him? Honestly!

For several minutes I endured teasing and taunting from my friends regarding my failure to keep The Plan, before everybody wisely decided to mind their own damn business. Angelina and Fred were now snogging on one of the couches, while Alicia and Lee were having a healthy argument about whatever it was that they always argued about. I was just glad the heat was no longer on me.

I lifted my legs and stretched them across George's lap as I read a magazine.

"Woah, Kates," George blurted out.

I looked up quickly, hearing the surprise in his voice.

"I never noticed it before, but you've got ugly toes," George seized my ankle and lifted it for closer inspection.

"No I don't."

"Yeah, you do. They're practically like fingers."

"Well then, just focus on the middle one," I snarled, pulling my unpedicured foot away and drawing my feet underneath me as I looked at him with despair.

"Edgy," he grinned.

"That was totally uncalled for," I shot back, shifting in my seat.

After a minute of his cooing and mild grovelling, my legs were back on his lap and we resumed casual and irrelevant blabber as I flipped through the fashion magazine I borrowed from Alicia to get ideas on what to wear for tomorrow.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you think I should go out with her?"

I closed the magazine and tossed it on the coffee table.

"Having second thoughts now, are we?" I asked, scolding myself inwardly for feeling a sudden gush of satisfaction.

"Cho's a lovely girl…"

"Mhmm…"

"and she's gorgeous, really…"

"Mhmm…"

"and a fantastic flyer…"

"I know she's 'all that' but listing her qualities is not getting us anywhere." I reasoned impatiently.

"I know."

"The question is not really whether you should, it's more of, do you really want to?"

"I don't know. She seems a bit high-maintenance."

"Couldn't argue with that."

He fidgeted in his seat. "What do I do if she suggests that we eat in that fancy restaurant in Hogsmeade?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'll break the bank."

George really hated talking about his financial woes. And when he did, I always struggled to find the right words to say to him.

"I can lend you a couple of Galleons, if you want?" I suggested tentatively. "You know, just in case."

"No," he declined stiffly. "I can manage."

As I looked at him absent-mindedly twisting the string of his pajama pants, I realized that despite the apprehensions I had with his date, I should be a friend and hope for the best for him as all good friends do. I wanted him to feel better and if I gave him my 'blessing,' maybe he would.

"Give it a chance. I'm sure it will work out," I patted his knee, hoping I sounded more convinced than I actually was. "Besides if she tries to do anything funny, she'll have me to answer to."

----------

**_A/N_: GAH! I don't understand why the line breaks won't work right now! Stupid ff. -scoffs- Anyway...**

**Thanks for reading! Special thanks to those who reviewed the last chappie: Kit Merlot, twisted little sister, sumdea, Just-Katie-Jane12, Meshugenah, one, snowgem, xtotallyatpeacex, The Painted Lady, lachesis02, RoxieWeasley, Iamcarterman, Celi, abercrombie 18, rubber ducky 9, mirfain251, nickyfox13 and Sarah (Thanks for pointing that out!). Hope to hear from you all, again. HINTHINT.**

**MY BETAS ARE THE BESTEST! Christine (FizzingWhizbeez) and Jaice (Semma), I love you both tons! XD Thanks for everything!**

**_Reference_: Toes dialogue shamelessly stolen from One Tree Hill.**

**_Next_: The 1st Hogsmeade weekend. Flirting, squirrels and, of course, more snogging.**

**But before anything else, please REVIEW. And if you have time make it a long one. I would love to hear more constructive criticism from y'all. Oh, and 100+ reviews sounds great. Help me:D**


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8  
(Day 12 - The Big Date)**

**

* * *

  
**

"So, uh, Kates, best of luck on your date with el Capitan."

"Uh.. gracias, I suppose?" I cocked a brow at Fred, who was being weird as per usual.

"Two Galleons, he doesn't bring her there."

I looked up and saw George placing two gold coins on the table.

"I'll raise you two more, my brother. He _shall _bring her," Fred said, giving me an evil smirk. I sat there confused as the exchange went on.

"Make that four, he will bring her _and _will have a go on the thing," Lee chimed in, dumping his coins on the table. The twins grinned identically.

"What are you twats on about?" I demanded.

"I don't know, Lee. Even Wood couldn't be _that_ thick." George shrugged, stacking the gold in one pile.

Lee brandished a flyer from Quality Quidditch Supplies. "Behold, Miss Bell, the Firebolt beta model that's up for a test-fly."

"The lightest broom in the market, extremely accurate navigation, razor-sharp precision, and polished finish in either dark wood, maple or oak. It even has a built in navigator and compass." Lee said all salesperson-like. "Wood won't be able to resist that."

"Clearly you nobheads have no respect whatsoever for me," I shook my head, forking a piece of egg into my mouth. "Placing bets on the outcome of my date? Honestly!"

"Ang, I'd have to go and see this for myself if you don't mind," Fred said, turning to ask his girlfriend for permission.

"No, not at all! That thing is stunning." Angelina said.

I have to admit though, I was slightly worried that my first date with Ol would self-destruct the minute he finds out about that test-fly, but I was clinging to hope that I was more important than some broom. That Firebolt did look fabulous, though.

* * *

The last time I was this nervous was when my mother took me to the dentist to get a tooth a pulled out. My father, who was a practicing mediwizard, knew how to sort it out the magical way, but mum would rather pay somebody to have her daughter undergo excruciating pain. Mothers.

I was standing by the castle entrance, watching people pass me by, all of them excited (but probably not as excited as I was) to spend a day in Hogsmeade. I thought I looked rather nice in a canary yellow off-shoulder top and white jeans (despite Alicia's nagging comment that nobody looks good in white trousers.) My usually messy blonde hair was set in soft, beachy waves, thanks to a styling charm Alicia helped me with.

I was getting impatient. I stood on my tippy toes, hoping I'd spot him in the sea of students.

"Hullo Katie," a girl voice called.

I looked round and saw my Object of Scorn smiling at me rather cheerfully. "Oh. Hi Cho… and you too, George."

He merely gave me a small wave as they moved along the current of people and, for some reason, seeing him with his arm around her, I was bloody—

"Kate!"

"Oliver."

He was running toward me, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Kate. I'm so sorry. I got held up by McGonagall…"

"That's ok."

"Do I look okay?" He adjusted his jacket.

He looked so gorgeous, his hair dark and shiny, a hint of scruff on his chin and jaw. (Would have appreciated if he had a shave prior, but I will let that fly because he still looked bloody cute.) He was clad in nice stonewashed jeans and a red collared shirt underneath a brown jacket that nicely complimented his eyes and skin.

"Just lovely."

"Good. I'd hate for you to have a slob for company," he said, motioning me outside. "You look amazing, by the way."

"Thank you," I said, trying very hard not to blush but failing miserably.

We walked silently out the Hogwarts gates and trudged the path to Hogsmeade. The formality of this being a "date" has finally settled and I was tongue-tied, which was, when I thought about it, better than bumbling incessantly. Every once in a while, I'd catch him looking at me and we'd share a smile.

When we reached the curve towards the shops and cafes, a wild bustle of air blew towards our direction, ruffling our hairs. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, searching for warmth.

"Have you gloves, Kate?"

"Yes," I replied tentatively, fishing them from my coat pocket.

"Well give them to me."

"Uh…"

"No, not just for me," he explained laughingly at my baffled face. "Look, one for your right hand and one for my left hand and then we'll hold hands with our two middle ones. See?"

"I see."

We marched along the shops, hands linked and arms swinging whilst the cold air mottled our faces. I was glad the matter of hand-holding was sorted out because it was something I looked forward to, to be quite honest. We waved to some of the acquaintances we passed, nodding and smiling like we were showing each other off. I appreciated that. Yes, sir. I wanted the whole student body to know who I was dating.

The Three Broomsticks and Stellar Café were swarming with students so we decided to stroll along the shops. I was afraid he'd bring me to QQS as the boys had teased me, but thankfully, we stayed away from the sports shop. We did browse the school supplies store, testing out the cool new self-inking quills. I got a nice peacock feather quill, while he bought the black bird version. After making our purchases, we lolled on a bench and watched a couple of squirrels running and hopping about like they were playing hide and seek. Oliver looked adorable chasing some of the squirrels, sending them scampering toward their burrows.

It had been an hour or so into the date, but somehow, there was still some level of anxiety in me. Dramatic as it sounds, I was so used to admiring him from afar that having him sitting directly beside me, his arm draped around my shoulder, made me feel slightly nervy.

"I'm really glad you and I did this," I said, smiling up at him.

"I'm glad you're glad."

"Well, I'm glad that you're glad that I'm glad."

"Now before you make any more eloquent remarks, Miss Bell, we have a couple of hot drinks with our names on it."

* * *

Madam Rosmerta's hot cocoa was ecstacy, passion, and obsession in a cup. I closed my eyes, inhaling the sweet, nutty scent of chocolate. It was just incredible – amazing – nothing quite like I ever tasted. Mm – Mm – Mm – good!

"Kate?"

"Yes?"

"Pardon me, but you sound like you're having an org—"

"Oliver!" I kicked him from underneath the table, shocked by his candid remark.

"What?" he asked flippantly, feigning innocence as I looked around if somebody overheard.

"Just drink your bloody butterbeer," I said with a playful pout.

"Fine," he replied, watching me lift the cup of goodness towards my pursed lips with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But you really did sound like you were enjoying yourself toooooo much."

"I _am_ enjoying myself, thanks." I placed the cup back in the saucer. "Well, aren't you?" I leaned forward, raising my eyebrow in what I thought was a seductive manner.

He was leaning to kiss me, when suddenly…

"Greetings!"

'Twas Fred. Ugh.

"Fancy seeing you here, Fred." I shot him a sharp glare, not even bothering to hide my annoyance. He was up to something, I knew it.

"What brings you here, mate?" Oliver asked.

"Well, if you must know, my dear captain, there's a test-fly for the new Firebolt."

_Oh crap._

"_The_ Firebolt?" Oliver repeated, seizing the flyer that was in Fred's hand. Now Oliver was looking at the broom with what I could only qualify as lust. "Wow, Fred. It's a beauty."

I clenched my fists underneath the table, getting ready to pounce at Fred.

"It really is," Fred said, avoiding my glare. "Angelina and I had a go at it, and I have to tell you, there's nothing quite like it." He jerked a thumb behind him where Angelina was checking out the décor by the doorway, trying to avoid my eyes.

"Katie," Oliver looked up from the flyer, his eyes practically watering with excitement. "D'you want to go?" Judging by the look on his face, his statement should have been: Well I'm going, are you coming with me?

"Sure, Oliver." I couldn't say no, could I? He was practically spazzing just looking at the damn flyer. "…Sure."

"Brilliant!" Fred said. "I'll see you lovebirds later then."

_GRRR!!!_

* * *

Moments later, I found myself just strolling idly inside QQS in what was supposed to be my glorious first date. Oliver already got in line to for the test-fly and judging by the queue that snaked its way out of the store, I think it's going to be quite a wait. I was still furious at Fred and vowed to kill him with my bare hands stat, but I was sadder about the fact that Oliver actually took the bait.

"Hey stranger…"

I looked up and saw George walking towards me. I grinned forcibly.

"Where's Cho?"

"She wanted to have a go at the Firebolt, so I let her. She's almost up." He pointed towards her and she gave both of us a cheerful wave. I returned it as cheerfully as I could.

"Why didn't you join her?"

He shrugged. "Why aren't you with Oliver?"

"Hey I asked first."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I suppose I just wasn't in the mood."

"Yeah me too. Fred sort of ruined it for me."

"Oh really? Why?"

"Don't play coy with me, George."

"Enlighten me. I'm confused."

"Hello? You have an outstanding bet with him, remember? The one where you bet if Ol will take me here or not."

"Oh that. Right. I suppose that did occur. To be honest, I forgot all about that."

"Bullshit."

"No I'm being serious. But now that you mentioned it, Fred actually needs the money for Angie's birthday."

"What? I didn't know Angie had a birthday coming up," I shrieked, a pang of guilt settling through.

"Uh-oh."

"I'm an awful friend."

"It happens to the best of us." He laughed placing a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

All of a sudden, I saw Oliver leaving his spot in line and walking briskly walking towards us. "Kate…"

George's hand left my shoulder and settled in his jean pocket. "Wood."

"Weasley," he nodded then turned towards me. "You know what, I changed my mind about flying. It doesn't feel right making you wait here. Not on our first date, at least."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked, confused.

He smirked. "What I meant to say was I'd rather spend my time with you than queuing for some stupid broom." He managed to say that last part without hesitation. I was impressed.

I smiled.

"I'll leave you lovebirds be." George said, making his way towards the opposite aisle.

"Remind me to kill your brother." I called out, hoping to make light of the awkward situation.

He looked over and smiled mischievously, "I remind myself that everyday."

* * *

I know it took forever, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :) Review.


End file.
